Chapter 31
His lips are soft against mine, our shared breath filling the space around us as our hands find their place of solace, his roaming the length of my back as mine grip the back of his hair, tugging gently to tilt his head for better access. My legs straddle him, and I grind down on his hardened length, a whimper falling from my lips as he jerks his hips upward. A groan escapes from his mouth as our tongues collide. A shudder ripples through me as he breaks away to trail kisses down the column of my neck, nibbling on the skin connecting my shoulder as I squeeze the back of his hair harder.
Kissing Tanner both dizzies and grounds me; a sense of what a home would feel like if he were it blossoms through every inch of my being. I can’t think past him; his minty taste, the way my body burns after his hands roam from one place to the next, his nose brushing against mine as we continue grasping for each other like this kiss is more important than the others we’ve shared. In some ways, it is. I laid myself bare to him, and he accepted me with open arms. For the first time in my life, I found myself hoping he would stay. That every heartbreak I’ve ever experienced at the hands of other people was worth it because it pushed me one step closer to him.
“Baby,” he sighs against my mouth, the new nickname warming me from the inside out. “We should probably stop.”
I grind down on him, smirking at the muttered ‘fuck’ slipping from his mouth as his hand moves from my back to grasp the back of my head, his lips finding mine again.
“I don’t want to stop,” I say in between breaths, opening my eyes to find thick lashes resting against his cheeks, eyes closed. His heart hammers in sync with mine as he leans forward to rest his forehead against mine.
“Me neither,” he murmurs. “It’s the last thing I want to do.”
“So, why should we?”
For the first time since kissing me, Tanner opens his eyes. Darkened emeralds glaze over as they roam over my body until landing where we’d be connected if we weren’t wearing clothes. He visibly shudders and looks at me through his lashes as his hands rest against my hips, gripping them gently.
“Slow, remember?” he rasps, lifting his chin and pressing a gentle kiss to my jaw. “We said we’d go slow.”
“But what if I don’t want to go slow?” I argue breathlessly, my fingers still entangled in his hair as I tug. He chuckles against my skin, the sound vibrating down my throat and shooting straight to my core. “What if I’m ready now?”
“Are you?” he questions, pulling away to look at me with amusement. “Because I’m warning you, Daisy Girl, once I cross that line, I won’t be able to go back.”
My heart pounds violently in my chest, the ache intensifying the longer we stare at one another. He doesn’t give me a chance to respond; instead, he chuckles to himself as he presses a kiss against the tip of my nose, and then my mouth when I scrunch my face up.
“Soon,” he promises, an easy smile on his face. “We’re taking this one day at a time.”
I bite back my remark and crawl off him back to a standing position, wiping my palms against my jeans. The room slowly comes back into view, the soft tune of “Cherry” playing in the background, and I focus on that—the piano, the vocals, instead of the raging war inside my head. I know I shouldn’t be, but I’m embarrassed. Mainly because I’m not usually a vocal person when it comes to any form of sexual desire, but being on Tanner, feeling him under me, made all sense fly out the window. I was ready to rip off all of my clothes just so I could feel the heat of his kiss on every inch of my body, and I wanted that. I still want it, if I’m being honest, but I’m grateful he slowed us down. Not because I’m worried he’d regret doing anything with me, but because if I’m giving myself to somebody intimately again, I need to be sure they won’t leave. I’ve only had sex with a handful of people, and without fail, they’ve ghosted or left without so much of a goodbye. I don’t think I could handle it if Tanner did the same thing.
I blink and see him sitting on the arm of my couch. His brows indented in concern as he watches me. I don’t worry about that, though, because I’m now realizing how much space Tanner takes up. Not physically, but as an overall entente. Muscular thighs straddle either side of the arm as his arms fold across the large expanse of his chest, making his biceps strain and pop. My gaze tracks the unintentional flex of his arms, and my mouth dries when our eyes lock. The wariness still fills his face, but he drops his arms to outstretch them towards me.
“C’mere, baby,” he says softly, gently, like he’s trying to coax a scared animal into his arms. I don’t hesitate, because I am scared, but not of him. More like, I’m scared of how I feel whenever he’s around.
Sauntering over, I stand in between his legs. The only barrier between us is the couch as I peer into his eyes. So vulnerable, so open, so vibrant they remind me of tall prairie grasses you’d find up the coast. My heart thrums slightly as his hands drop to find their spot on my hips, tracing soothing circles as he assesses whatever he sees on my face. My heart jams its way into my throat the longer he stares, but I don’t balk from it. I’m laying myself bare—the nerves, the discomfort, the fear of rejection and embarrassment ringing through every warning bell in my head that tells me to steer clear, to break the distance between us, and push him so far away he doesn’t come back. But for some reason, a smaller, more timid part tucked in the furthest chambers of my heart urges me closer to hang on tight and prepare for the ride because doing this with Tanner—whatever this is—is going to be the trip of a lifetime.
“You okay?” he finally asks, his voice thick and gentle all in the same. Smoldering heat simmers behind his eyes as I meet his gaze, but I dip my chin.
“Yes.”
He arches a brow, seemingly waiting for a response I’m not sure I can give him right now. My mind fights back and forth, an ongoing battle between leaning into him and shoving him so far away he doesn’t look back, but I realize I don’t want that. I agreed to try, to give him whatever parts of me I could. Going back on my word, when he’s experienced such conflict in his previous relationship, it isn’t going to prove to him or myself that I am ready to try with somebody. So, for tonight, I’ll push myself out of my comfort zone and try.
“I guess I’m just…” I trail off, heat burning me from the inside out. “I’m embarrassed.”
His face scrunches in confusion. “Why?”
I shrug, gnawing my bottom lip as I glance away. “I don’t know,” I start. “I’m not usually vocal about what I want when it comes to—“ I find his gaze and gesture between us, trailing off again. Understanding washes over his face, and as he nods, his arms drop from their folded position over his chest, encasing one of his hands around my wrist. To ground either him or me, I’m not sure. His fingers on my skin make my knees want to buckle, but I push through the discomfort to continue speaking this into existence.
“I feel rejected,” I blurt out. His eyes widen in shock, a gentle squeeze on my wrist to reassure that he’s still there. “It isn’t because of you, though,” I forge on. “I’m not used to guys following through on what they say, and because we stopped…”
“It makes you feel like I don’t want you,” he finishes for me. I nod.
A tsk clicks from his mouth as he softly mutters, “Daisy girl.”
I shake his concern away, pushing through the feelings of discomfort as I peer at him. “I’m fine,” I reassure, waving him off. “It’s just something I need to work through.”
“Let me help you,” he offers, the grip on my wrist firm but not hurtful as he brings it to his mouth, kissing my palm. My gaze drops to our hands intertwined, the contrast between my caramel color and his creamy one stark but not off-putting. It’s just right.
“You being here is enough,” I say softly but not timidly. “This is all going to take some time.”
His face softens further, his thumb pad rubbing back and forth against the inside of my wrist. Goosebumps trail up my arm.
“Do you see why I wanted to take things slow?” he offers gently, in no way disregarding anything I’ve said by asking. There’s no mockery, no judgment in his tone—it’s all open and understanding, communicating the things I thought he wasn’t serious about. I made an assumption that Tanner would be like the typical guy, offering to follow through on one thing and immediately going back on that word once things got heated—and they did. I can’t recall any point in my life I’ve had a makeout sesh that steamy and been left wanting more. All I know is if Tanner kisses like that, I’m more than willing to wait and see what else he brings to the table.
“I do,” I say with a small smile. “And I’m glad one of us has enough restraint to stop.”
He smirks, tugging me as close as he can with the barrier in between us, pressing a kiss to the corner of my mouth. “Not sure if it’s restraint,” he says lowly. “But you’re worth the wait.”
My body sparks with anticipation, the urge to rub my legs together to ease the ache strong but I fight it as I turn my head slightly, catching his lips with mine. His arm instantly wraps around my lower back as he leans closer, invading my senses with his sandalwood smell. He grins against my mouth when I wrap my arms around his shoulders, both of us finding solace in one another as we share air, space, and time.